Proximity
by xxxSerinaxxx
Summary: Haruhi and Kyoya participate in a competition.


**.~*~*~.**

Sometimes when there was no one around, Haruhi drew a butterfly on her wrist with her gel pen. Her skin rippled under the nib, and her hand trembled. The outline of the winged insect was always sloppy, slightly curved. Haruhi liked the silent secret butterfly on her arm. She liked how the opaque ink glistered on her pale complexion. The butterfly smiled back at her with promise.

Haruhi kept strawberries in her school bag and ate them when she felt sad. She also owned several copies of the same book; just different editions, different covers. She kept the books in the back of the shelf, because she liked those things hidden. When you have something to hide, you have a reason to be around to keep those things hidden.

Thunderstorms were so scary, and even the butterfly on her wrist didn't sooth her when it struck the skies above. Haruhi thought of her mother. When she died, the sky turned white and clouds screamed. She screamed too... with pain...

She missed her mother and her sweet smile. Her smile looked like the wings of a butterfly. She didn't tell her father how much she missed Mommy, but she did―with all her heart. It hurt. And she kept drawing butterflies on her wrists and kept those books behind the shelf, secretly tucked away from the strange, tenebrous world.

"Haruhi, I have bought strawberries," her father called with a big grin on his face.

He waved the package, and her lovely face lit up like the sky after sunrise.

Sometimes when there was no one around, Haruhi cried, because she missed her Mommy...

 **.~*~*~.**

Sometimes when there was no one around, Kyoya drew his family on a piece of paper, and he drew himself next to his father. The paper wrinkled under the force of his pencil, and Kyoya crunched it into a ball and threw into the trashcan. The image must be perfect. And he drew again and again and over again, until it was perfect. He outlined everything perfectly, and the image looked back at him with yearning.

Kyoya didn't like family dinners. His brothers made him feel small and insignificant. He wished he could grow up faster and show everyone how much better he was. He read all of the books his father liked, but he didn't have a book that he liked himself. He didn't care about any of those books. He just wanted to be closer to his father.

He was the best student at his school, and he was scared that one day someone else would do better than him, and his father would be disappointed. So Kyoya spent many hours reading and studying, because he couldn't lose his father's love or approval.

He wanted his father to smile at him and tell him he was pleased with him, just like in that perfect picture he had drawn. He wanted to be the best in his father's eyes, and when his father didn't look at him with such gaze... it hurt. But he kept trying and trying until exhaustion. One day he would be the son his father was proud to have.

"Kyoya-sama," his bodyguard called him, and he looked at the tall, blonde man. "Kyoya-sama, we are home."

Kyoya stepped out of the car and kept his posture straight. The tears begged to flow and wet his cheeks. He failed to be the best in the competition, some stupid girl beat him, and father left without saying anything to him.

Sometimes when there was no one around, Kyoya cried, because he wanted to be loved...

 **.~*~*~.**

Haruhi was ten when she decided to participate in a drawing competition. She was not good at it at all. The butterflies she drew on her wrist were poor and amateurish. It was an elite competition, and the prize was a very valuable painting for the school by world famous artist Takahashi Akira. The elementary schools all over Japan participated in it. She applied to participate because her homeroom teacher insisted.

Haruhi was scared and shy to see so many students competing in one place. They were even students from prestigious, elite schools for rich people. She was sure one of them would win the prize for their school.

"Haruhi!" her father enthusiastically waved at her and smiled brightly.

She smiled back. He gave her courage. She knew he missed Mommy even more.

They sat at tables in the big hall, preparing to show their skills.

"Hello everyone, I am Takahashi Akira, thank you for having me here today. I am grateful that I was invited to this wonderful competition. So many young people, and I am sure all of them are very talented. I was asked by the organizers to come up with a theme for the competition, and I thought long about what I can choose and... and I decided that I want to remember piece of my childhood. I am sure all of these young people would love to draw the happiest memory of their life for us, and as they are young, I hope to see many heartwarming works. Thank you."

Haruhi gasped. The artist looked so much different than what she imagined him. He had a kind face and strange mustache, and his clothing was very colorful even if his paintings were dark and gloomy.

When the papers and the pencils were distributed to everyone, and Haruhi got her own, she started to wonder what to draw. Because she didn't know what was the happiest memory of her life. Maybe when she visited her grandparents last summer, and she played with neko-chan, ironically, the neighbors cute little dog. She was so happy then. But it couldn't have been it. Right?

She thought and her eyes teared up. Because she remembered the day when Mommy and Daddy took her to a botanical garden, and she saw the world's most beautiful butterfly on the petals of a big puffy flower. Her heart trembled, and she drew that memory through her tears, and the paper got wet and crumpled.

 **.~*~*~.**

Kyoya was eleven when he was chosen to represent their school in a drawing competition. He was best in his class, and everyone agreed that his drawings were perfect. He was so excited, because even Father would be there at the competition, and Kyoya intended to win.

He wrinkled his nose when he heard the theme of the competition. Such an obnoxious, soppy topic! He hated all of this nonsensical, sentimental rubbish.

He drew a beautiful image of his last trip to Italy. He detailed the historical landmarks and made sure they looked as realistic as possible. He chose tender colours for sky and natural tints for the buildings. He drew himself, standing there alone, admiring the view, but his own face didn't look as good as he tried to do it. He got frustrated but did several times until he got it right. He didn't know why, but happy faces were so hard to draw without them looking creepy and unnatural.

Their works were gathered, and Kyoya couldn't hold back his annoyance when he saw some of the terrible drawings these children did. If they were so bad at it, why were they even here? He wouldn't have dared to step into it without being sure of his skills, and if these morons were sure that they were good, they were pathetic. There was even one where paper was kind of wet. He sighed and shook his head.

 _"Obnoxious!"_ he though.

The rest of day they spent waiting for the organizers to review the paintings. Kyoya was bored. The other children were uninteresting and didn't deserve his time.

He walked away, trying to find a quite corner.

He stopped when he heard someone's sobbing. It was muffled, but he had a good hearing. He rubbed his forehead. What was wrong with this kid? The competition wasn't even over, and they already were crying? Were they so bad that they were upset knowing they would lose?

It didn't matter, it wasn't his battle to fight. He turned to leave, but the sobbing child suddenly quietened and spoke. "I am sorry, I didn't want to disturb anyone."

He turned back and was for a moment wordless, because the face of the little crybaby captivated him. She was younger than him maybe and was so pretty. Even prettier than his sister Fuyumi, and no one was prettier than Fuyumi.

"You didn't disturb me," he said with an annoyed huff. "It's ridiculous to cry before the competition is over."

He didn't know why he was even trying to comfort her. He didn't care about this kid, and she did annoy him.

"I am not crying for the competition," she said, drying her tears with her sleeve. "I am just happy and sad."

Kyoya narrowed his eyes. Was she happy now, or sad? He shook his head. Why did he even care to wonder?

"Why are you crying then?" he blurted out.

"I remembered my mother, and it made me sad, but I am happy because I remembered her smile."

"Here take this," she stared at the embroidered handkerchief and blinked. "I can't stand all of these tears. It's so irritating. You shouldn't cry in public."

He lied. He just didn't like her tears. Her eyes must have been prettier without that salty water and redness.

 **.~*~*~.**

Haruhi couldn't believe that she won. She pressed the handkerchief against her cheeks and stood up. Her drawing was chosen by Takahashi-san as the best and the most sincere one. She walked to the stage to get her prize and be congratulated by the artist. Her legs trembled. She was scared she would fall, but the smell of the handkerchief soothed her.

Oh that boy, who gave her this, where was he? She even forgot to ask his name.

"What is your name sweetheart?" Takahashi-san asked, lowering down to match her height.

"Haruhi," she said in her low voice, looking at the audience cautiously.

"Let's clap Haruhi and her wonderful drawing," the artist smiled. "It really touched my heart. Is that your family?"

She nodded.

"It's beautiful and thank you, because it made me remember my childhood, too."

People clapped and Haruhi's eyes teared up again, because she was happy. Mommy would have been too.

"Haruhi, Daddy is so proud of you," her father yelled, and she laughed, seeing him look like a rainbow after storm.

 **.~*~*~.**

Kyoya locked his bedroom door and slid down to the floor, his back pressed against the wooden door. Tears escaped his eyes, but he was grateful that there was nobody around to see him. He shouldn't show weakness to people. He held the folder with his drawing in it, and his heart drummed faster. He thought his drawing was perfect, but that little girl was the one to win, and she was crying like a baby.

She drew her family and a huge butterfly on an orchid.

He cleaned his tears and opened the folder. The small paper attached to it, said, "Perfect technical skill, but very little emotion and kind of soulless."

It hurt.

He did have a soul and he felt emotions. He was sad now. He was broken now, and he wanted someone to hug him now. But there was no one.

And he cried because failures were painful, and he was lonely.

And because there was no one around, Kyoya drew his family. He drew them slowly and tears fell on his paper, and he didn't care, because he wanted to draw one more time and see what it felt like to try without wishing to be exact. It was sloppy, it was messy, and Kyoya's face was so sad in that image. But wasn't that how he always looked?

 **.~*~*~.**

She was fifteen when she got a scholarship to a prestigious high school. Haruhi smiled looking at the admission papers sent by mail. Her dreams were coming true, and she would become the best lawyer Japan ever saw. She knew she was going to be such a great one that Mother would be proud and her father wouldn't have to work in that bar and could finally marry his boyfriend that he thought he hid well from her.

She knew he had a relationship with a man, and she didn't mind him being together with him. She wanted him to be happy. She wanted him not to be lonely. She knew what it meant to feel lonely, and she didn't want his loving, caring, kindhearted father to feel lonely. He deserved to have love in his life.

She smiled and drew a butterfly on her wrist to keep herself safe and feel like she was loved and not alone. This butterfly kept her a company.

And she had that butterfly when she went to school for the first time.

She felt like she didn't belong here. She never thought she would feel small and vulnerable for not having the same dress as everyone else. But she secretly looked at the butterfly on her wrist and sighed in some courage. She smiled and walked inside. She could do this, and she needed to do this. After all, she had a secret and those who did have secrets were important. Their secrets kept them around.

 **.~*~*~.**

"And you want me to do all of this today?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "Tamaki, I am not a god. You should have told me sooner you wanted fairy-tale themed hosting day."

"Oh, Kyoya, mon ami, stop exaggerating," the blonde guy waved his hands. "You always manage."

Kyoya rolled his eyes. This fool was a punishment from heavens.

"You really don't understand the concept of event organization," Kyoya huffed, brushing back his raven hair. "I can't order everything for the theme, and for all of that to arrive today, and for me to also have everything set up today. I can't do it. It's beyond my control how companies work, and how fast a person can deliver my orders."

"Leave me out of that boring talk," the blonde smiled and gave him an air-kiss. "I am sure you will think of something."

Kyoya sighed and lowered his gaze, and if his eyes could poke holes, there would be two very deep ones on the asphalt of the Ouran High's yard.

Damn Tamaki!

He walked back into the building and collided with something soft when he tried to get through the doors. He groaned when water from ballooned splashed him. Those twins were so going to die! He already had enough. Kyoya shook his shirt, trying to get droplet fall down, and then sighed irritated that were was water on his face.

"Here take this," he looked at the handkerchief extended to him, and his eyes widened when he saw the embroidered initials. "O. K."

It was his handkerchief. It had the same pattern as the one he had five years ago. He then gave it to that...

Kyoya looked closer at the person who extended it to him. The girl's sleeve was up, and he could see a butterfly on her wrist and she had... she had those pretty eyes.


End file.
